


'tis the damn season

by jj_bree



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Based on a song, Christmas, Designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Evermore - Freeform, Holiday, Hurt, Implied Sexual Content, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Post-Relationship, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pretending Everything is Okay, Taylor Swift - Freeform, not a one shot? i'm shocked, stream evermore teehee, tis the damn season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_bree/pseuds/jj_bree
Summary: Adrien squeezed her right hand, “We can call it even.”Marinette returned it. “‘Tis the damn season,” she said.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	1. year one

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ['tis the damn season](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/730548) by taylor swift. 



Marinette didn’t know how long she stood outside his house, but she knew it had been more than 15 minutes, for the cold seeped past her cotton gloves, numbing her fingers. Her body refused to shiver and welcomed the chilling of her bones. It was only when commotion came from inside the home that she became aware of the weather and its waging war on her body. She grimaced as she clenched her fists. Stiff and cold, she shoved them into her maroon trench coat and rocked on her boots. Her breath formed a small puff of condensed air when she exhaled and raised her fist to the door. 

_Rap, rap._

No one answered but the house went silent. She counted backward from ten before she raised to her fist to knock again. The second her gloved hand touched the green door, she hesitated. 

Knocking twice seemed like an act of desperation. 

Especially considering the eye hole in the door, which she assumed he had seen her out of. 

Her vulnerable hand started to shake and she tried to play it off as the cold, but it was also the hint of nervousness she refused to acknowledge. 

The cold withered her bones and she knew that she did need to enter _some_ house soon or she would freeze. Rocking on her boots, she stuffed her shaky hand in her left pocket and pulled the warm one from her right. 

With her fist raised she aimed to hit the door--

\--only to feel nothing beneath it. 

“Marinette,” it was surprised, soft and hushed, but concerned. 

“Hi,” she coughed. Her body betrayed her and hunched over. He ran to catch her, pulling her inside. 

“How long’ve you been out there?”

He had to have known, but it’s hard to skate on frozen waters without skates. 

She pushed his question aside as well as his arms from her body. She shut the door behind her and gasped when she noticed the living room. 

Cherry and lime lights decorated the walls. A live Christmas tree stood courageously in the far corner, its limbs coated in silver and gold tinsel and a kaleidoscope of ornament colors. A fire roared from across the tree. On the other half of the living room were several opened boxes, still full of Christmas trinkets. 

“You’re decorating.”

Adrien nodded, placing his hands in his jean pockets. His juniper sweater wrinkled at the wrists. 

Marinette didn’t have any more to say, so she peeled off her coat and strode toward the heat. Her fingers hovered outside of the metal, protecting her from the flames themselves. She felt Adrien’s presence still remaining at the door. 

Clenching her fingers open and shut over and over again, Marinette felt her body come back to life. 

Anything but him, though. She studied the bricks in the mantel, the crackle and pop of the fire, and the coffee table. 

The coffee table. 

Two plates and two cups resided there. Empty crumbs dotted the plates and red liquid the half-empty cups. Being a baker herself, she noticed it was a yellow cake with white buttercream frosting. She assumed the latter was cider. 

The coffee table. It was all she could stare at. Her fingers started to overheat, and she could feel beads of sweat forming inside her snow-white sweater, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull them away. She didn’t dare look at Adrien. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift and although his voice felt far away, he said, “Kay, was over earlier helping me decorate.”

“Kagami?” she asked. 

His silence answered her question.

She rose and walked into the kitchen. He hadn’t bothered putting any of it away. But then, he probably never expected her to show up. The cider’s lid was off and the cake hadn’t been covered. She pulled open a cupboard and covered the cake with plastic wrap. 

His voice came from behind her and she imagined him, his hand against the door frame, his weight leaning on his left foot, and the hurt in his eyes.

“We just decorated,” he said.

She shook her head, it wasn’t that. Her words came out in a whisper, “It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “if I wanted to know who you were hanging out with when I was gone, I would’ve asked.”

The ice between them seemed to thicken. She turned to face him. His gaze was on the floor. 

“Kitty,” she called. She didn’t know where that had come from. The personal nickname was a step toward something she didn’t want to admit she wanted. He slowly raised his eyes to hers. It wasn’t a step onto the ice, but it was an acknowledgment of it. 

She stepped toward him, slowly wrapping her arms around him. He returned her hug immediately and she relished in the warmth of his body. 

“My lady,” he breathed. The warmth of his breath against her neck made her skin prickle. 

“I like them, the decorations.” His embrace tightened briefly and she felt him bury his face in her hair. 

“Are you finished?”

His head moved left to right against her. “No,” he whispered. 

“What’s missing?”

He drew back and stared at her. His eyes searched for something, although she didn’t know what. 

“‘Tis the damn season,” she said with a nervous chuckle. He didn’t laugh and stared. She swallowed. He blinked and the look in his eyes was gone. Stepping back from her, he clutched her hand and pulled them back into the living room. He led her over to a box and handed her the star. 

“Let’s put it on the tree,” his smile was so small, she wondered if it had even been there, to begin with.

“How am I gonna reach that,” she pointed to the tree.

He shrugged, “I’ll bring the coffee table over.” It came out so effortlessly she forgot everything about the coffee table until he froze and she backtracked through his words. Ignoring all of that, she sauntered to the table and dragged it across the wood floor until it sat directly beside the tree. Star in hand, she stepped onto the table and leaned over to snag the tree’s top branch. She balanced on one foot and pulled the tree to her height. The star was inches away from the top and if she could just--

\--"Mari, wait!”

It wasn’t slow motion, it was as quick as a snap. One second balanced, the next not. But she hadn’t hit the floor or cracked her head on the coffee table. Adrien cradled her body in his arms, one arm holding her legs and the other her back. 

Neither of them said a word. Adrien bit his lip and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She heard him sniffle. Peering over Adrien’s shoulder, Marinette looked for the star and grimaced when she saw its fragments scattered across the hard floor. Leaning back against Adrien’s chest, Marinette didn’t move. Adrien didn’t let up either. He wouldn’t make any eye contact, still, so she studied him. 

She found herself lifting gloved fingers to his cheek and cradling it. His eyes finally pierced hers and Marinette broke the contact to study her hand on his cheek. He still bit his lip. Marinette brushed her fingers across them and gently pulled them apart. Adrien remained so standstill. The passing thought of how he was still able to hold her came and went. 

This was slow motion. 

Her face approached his and Marinette pressed her lips against Adrien’s, her gloved hands leaving his cheek to wrap around his neck. 

_Now, this was an act of desperation._

But it wasn’t an unanswered one. 

Adrien’s lips moved against hers, and in one swoop, she lay on the couch. Removing her legs from his side, she wrapped them around his waist. She ran her hands through his hair and suddenly aware of the cotton between them, pulled away from him to peel them off. 

Adrien didn’t hesitate, directing his attention to her neck as he peppered her with more kisses. Marinette threw the mittens somewhere across the room. His hand roamed over her body and eventually migrated underneath her shirt. He caressed her skin and mumbled indecipherable words against her skin. 

She wasn’t thinking, but it wasn't the time to think. So, she pushed every reasonable thought out of her head. 

The only constants in the world right now was the boy gently pulling her boots off, her hands reaching to yank his sweater and toss it in the same direction of the mittens, and their hushed breaths as they tried with unreasonable attempts to melt the ice between them with heat. 

~

Her body felt limp. Perspiration dotted her back and warmth filled her aching body. Still, instead of the former, freezing ache, a pessimistic and gloomy one now coursed through her. 

Adrien’s face rested in the crook of her neck. Their breathing synched and Marinette watched as their bodies rose and fell together. She ran a tired hand through his blonde waves. 

The room shimmered around them. The tree remained starless, and Marinette didn’t want to leave the couch to stare at the mess of the fallen decoration. Adrien groaned as he removed his head from her shoulder. Marinette watched as he pushed himself up and stared at her. She knew the question that would follow. She dreaded it. She wouldn’t look at him.

“Mari,” he called to her. Her eyes scoured the room for the star. She’d rather stare at that than the broken soul in front of her. 

He peeled himself away from her completely and rose from the couch to collect his clothes. She wasn’t ready when he tossed hers at her.

She didn’t have time to stifle the surprise and laughter that bubbled out of her. Adrien grinned. He strode back to the couch and knelt beside her. Marinette started to put on her top. When it was over her head, Adrien reached for her hand.

“Where are you staying?”

“My parent’s house.” Her parents didn’t really care that she was out. She was twenty years old. 

“Stay with me.” His eyes filled with hope. 

Marinette knew she shouldn’t, they had broken up months ago. Yet, that didn’t stop her from preventing what happened moments ago. If she was honest, she would have never stopped him. She still loved him, after all.

“Please,” Adrien brought her knuckles to his lips. 

“I want to,” was all she could say.

“So stay,” he said. 

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth, so instead, she agreed. 

~

Her parents hadn’t batted an eye when she came back the next day to retrieve her suitcase.

Her _maman_ , had asked, “Where?”

She called back, “A friend’s.”

~

The Christmas decorations were finally up. They had cleaned up the star together, both of them silent throughout the whole process. Marinette broke that by accidentally slicing her finger open via one of the broken glass shards. 

“Guess I’m still clumsy as ever,” she chuckled. 

“Don’t know how you ever make it as a designer, m’lady.”

The nickname coursed through her heart, and she smiled despite her brain telling her that she had been hurt, both in the past and right now. 

~

They slept most of their days away, cradling in each other. Neither of them cared that they could be out doing holiday activities like ice-skating or snowman building. 

They had made it to the kitchen for coffee one day when Marinette wished she hadn’t said her thoughts aloud, for it left a wide chasm of awkwardness between them.

“I missed it here.”

Adrien didn’t say anything, just glanced at her once before shutting the cupboards, “We’re all out of sugar.”

~

She didn’t dare bring Adrien over to her parents for Christmas dinner. 

“My parents need me for a few hours, today,” was all she said. 

He took the hint, “That’s fine, I have some errands to run anyways.”

Dinner was nice, as usual. Her maman asked about her “friend”, and Marinette brushed her off, “He’s got errands to run, but the turkey’s good this year, Maman _.”_

Her arms were full of leftovers when she returned to his house. She nearly dropped them when she stepped over the door sill. 

The living room was dark. “Adrien?”

It was as quick as a snap. 

The decorations lit up and the room was branded in cherry and lime lights. Adrien stood in the center of the room, a small box in his hands.

“No,” she sighed, “I didn’t get you anything.”

He shook his head and gestured to the plates in her hands, “Food works.”

She set them on the floor, “It’s probably not the same as what’s in there.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here.”

 _Not for long,_ her brain reprimanded. 

“Adrien,” she started. 

He strode to her, “Just open it, m’lady.”

She gingerly took the box and pulled the ribbon. She lifted the box and found a small, black box waiting for her. 

“Adrien.”

He ignored her and took the box from her hands. Marinette froze, somehow feeling numb despite the heat and roaring fire. 

He didn’t take a step back and didn’t kneel. Adrien opened the box and Marinette gasped at the ring. 

It was silver, reminding her of his old miraculous ring. Yet, instead of pure, plain silver, this ring had tiny ladybugs all around it. 

“Chat, it’s,” she couldn’t find words. 

“You. It’s you, Bug, and it’s yours. I know you’ve missed having Tikki around, and I was gonna give it to you this year anyway, before, woah, wait, are you okay?”

She wasn’t. Tears rolled down her cheek and she felt the need to lie on the floor and sob. Sob for this man in front of her who she so dearly loved and who loved her and-

“Bug, Mari, are those happy tears?”

She shook her head. Some of the tears were happy because the ring made her happy, but most of those tears were regretful and remorseful for their relationship. 

“Adrien, I'm going back tomorrow.” There she had said it. She didn’t need to say where. They both knew. New York City hung over their shoulders like dark rain clouds. 

She didn’t dare meet his eyes, so she walked to the couch and took a seat. He followed her and she was reminded of a week ago, when he had asked her to stay, and now it was the same, but so very different. 

“I can’t stay,” was all she said to the crouched man in front of her. 

Adrien held her hand, “I know.” 

She gasped and finally stared at him. “You knew?”

He nodded, “I knew you’d go back to NYC, Mari, so don’t feel bad, okay? I asked you to stay and you did, and if that’s all this will ever be-”

“No,” she cried. 

“-then I’m okay with it. If this is all the universe is gonna give us, then I’ll take it.”

“But,” her eyes fell on the ring box in her hand. 

Adrien smiled sadly and reached for her right hand. He gently pushed the metal onto her fourth finger. Marinette shivered as the silver came to rest on her hand. She closed her eyes briefly and imagined a world where the ring would lay on her left. 

Adrien squeezed her right hand, “We could call it even.”

She returned it. “‘Tis the damn season,” she said. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. She nestled her head into his shoulder and sighed. 

_The road not taken looks real good now._

And that was how it began.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. year two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> year two.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Marinette tilted her head. She needed to do something. Maybe if she had stuff to do, she wouldn’t have to go home for Christmas this year. Her parents would understand.

Her assistant shook her head, “No, we don’t. We have your designs all set, and everything’s working fine. We can handle this,” she waved Marinette off. “Go home. Go to Paris already.”

“But,” Marinette insisted. 

“Marinette, if I’m honest with you, I can’t understand why you’d want to stay in _New York_ when you can be in _Europe._ I’d trade places with you if you could.”

“Maybe you can,” Marinette dug around in her purse for the plane ticket. 

“No! Absolutely not! Agh, this is terrible. Go home for Christmas, Marinette. We have it all under control.”

“At least somebody does,” she mumbled. Her assistant didn’t seem to hear. She was signing something on a clipboard. 

“Well, when you guys are done, promise me you’ll go home for Christmas?”

“Of course, Marinette. Merry Christmas.”

She smiled, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.”

“Hey maman, papa.” She pulled her suitcases over the door sill. “I’m going to drop off my stuff upstairs, alright?”

They nodded and she hauled her bags to her old room. She fell back on her sheets as she resisted the pull to leave her room and her parent’s house to go where she really wanted. 

“Marinette?”

“Maman?” She ran to her banister and hung her head over the edge, “Yes?”

“Could you run some errands for us? We’re out of flour and sugar for the Christmas cookies.”

Finally, a task. She could do as many tasks and errands as her parents wanted. This was what she needed. 

“Absolutely.”

Her arms were so used to carrying light balls of fabric, they couldn’t make it a block without having to stop, set the bags down, rest, and then resume the path back home. 

“Why are flour and sugar sold in such huge bags? What if someone wanted a tiny box of sugar they could put in their pocket and take it with them wherever they wanted,” she paused her ramble as she passed the old park she used to hang around in her younger years. 

The fountain remained frozen. But what didn’t remain frozen was the person in a coal-colored coat and juniper sweater and the figure beside him in a navy trench coat. They were laughing, and their breaths mingled, forming one. 

“Kay,” she didn’t hear what Adrien would’ve said next. She nearly ran to the next building she could find and hid. 

She exhaled. So, it was good luck that she didn’t follow her instinct and run to his house, flinging herself in his arms, for a repeat of last year. He already had someone to hold. 

And what right did she have? They broke up a year ago. She chose New York and he chose Paris. It wouldn’t have worked out. Remember last year? It didn’t work out. She left the following day, while he slept, without a word. She didn’t call, he didn’t call. It was fine. 

But this wasn’t. 

Why did it have to be Kagami? Anybody but her. She sighed. But if it wasn’t Kagami and some stranger? Maybe that’d be worse. But seeing Adrien alone? She didn’t really want that. 

Even though a part of her did. 

Her parents would be expecting her. Marinette came out around the corner and resumed her back home. She neither heard nor saw anyone around her. 

Marinette placed the finishing touches on the cookies and pushed the plate toward her mother. She shook her head. 

“Maman?”

“Keep them.”

Marinette was confused, “But, I can eat the ones here? I can’t take them back with me.”

“Take them to your friend. He’ll probably want some.”

She got her there. 

“He’s busy.”

“No, he’s not. He comes in here at least once a month and buys desserts. He’ll love these.”

Marinette frowns, “It’s too dark.”

“You’ve come back later.”

“Maman.”

“Just drop them off and leave. I have some errands I need you to do anyway.” She handed Marinette a folded sheet. 

Marinette took it and placed it in her jean pocket. “Fine.”

This time she didn’t stay out in the cold for long. She knocked, short and brief. The door opened immediately. 

“Marinette,” it was happy and relieved. 

“Hey, Adrien, Maman wanted to give you these cookies, so,” she presented them to him, “here you go. Take them,” he held onto the plate. “Merry Christmas.” She started to walk off his porch and into the dark. Now for the errands list…

“Marinette, wait.” She stopped. “Do you wanna come inside?”

She didn’t turn. If she moved an inch, she’d find herself running into his arms and kissing him. 

“No,” she breathed. 

“Please?” His voice was pleading. 

“Adrien, if I come inside, I’ll never leave.”

“But you left last time.” It wasn’t meant as a diss, but it stung a bit. It was only the truth, though. 

It was only the truth, though. That was the truth and she repeated that in her head as she swiveled, strode up to his steps again, and threw herself into his arms. 

She closed the door behind her and pressed her back against it. “So.” The room was dark and if he had decorated it, she couldn’t see any of it. 

“So,” he echoed. 

“Was there something-” Her words were cut off as Adrien pressed his lips against hers. She could do this. She could not talk. 

She leaned into him. His hands reached her shoulders, pushing her coat off. She pulled away to unlace her boots, and she felt his gaze on hers. 

“You still wear shoes in the house?” she laughed. 

He held her again and smiled against her lips. “Don’t make fun of me, m’lady.” They had enough self-control to head upstairs into his room and finish what they started in there, his juniper sweater and the rest of his clothes landing on one half of the room and everything that was hers on the other half. 

They lay underneath the sheets. She wore his sweater and had cringed as she put it on. “This is such a weird color to wear.”

“Sorry, Madame Designer Dupain-Cheng,” he hung his head, “I’ll do better next time.”

_How many next times would there be?_

She crawled back into his bed after that and he wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“I missed you,” he said softly. She relished in the way his words started a chill that crawled up her back. 

“I missed you, too.”

He hummed his approval. “How’s New York?”

She sighed, “Fine, my assistant basically kicked me out of the building ‘cause they had everything under control. Sometimes I feel like they don’t even need me over there.”

Adrien’s grip on her waist tightened. “It’s probably ‘cause you’re a good boss. They already know what to do and what you expect.”

She backtracked through her words and considered the flash of hope he may have had at her words. “Adrien,” she turned to face him.

He shook his head, “It’s fine, Mari. Let’s not go down that path again. You belong there and I belong here. Doesn’t mean we can’t take what we want now.”

Marinette bit her lip. That was how she saw it if she wasn’t being honest with herself.

If she opened that small crevice in the back of her heart that she tried with everything in her to keep closed, she’d know that wasn’t how she viewed it. She belonged wherever he was. She needed him. Every single day throughout this year she founded herself staring at the silver ring on her right ring finger and imagined a world where it was all right with them.

Sometimes she’d go out in public and take off the ring, placing it on her left. _Like they were truly tied to each other._ They’d always be, whether they were in a relationship or not. 

But she didn’t open that crevice. She ignored it and nodded at Adrien. “How’s Paris?”

“It’s alright. Haven’t done much, just gone out with friends and all.”

She remembered then. God, she didn’t want to ask. Marinette had no right to. They weren’t together, together. 

He seemed to notice her sudden silence and drew her close again. “There’s no one else, Mari.”

Marinette couldn’t help but imagine the invisible word that trailed after his sentence: _yet._

She snuggled closer into him and placed a kiss on his cheek. Their legs entangled with one another and despite knowing the end to this chapter, she felt happier than she’d been all year. 

The Christmas cookies resided on his kitchen table. In their attempt to head upstairs as soon as possible, a few of them were squashed and broken, while others had no cling wrap on them all night so now they were hard and stale. 

Adrien bit into them and grimaced. Marinette laughed, hugging her hands around her cup of coffee. “I didn’t ask you to smash them. Take them, not smash them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I smashed the right thing last-”

Marinette pointed a finger at him. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“Or what?” He grinned. 

She clenched her fists, shaking her head. “If I had my yo-yo right now,” she trailed off. 

“What would you do? Tie me up?” He crept toward her, that stupid smile on his face. “Maybe that’s what I-”

Marinette hid her face in his hands and screamed, “Okay, now, now. That’s enough. Topic change.”

Adrien winked at her and complied. 

“The cookies,” Marinette said, “now they’re stale. You and cling wrap do not do well together.”

Adrien turned away from her and headed to one of his cupboards. The light mahogany wood door opened to reveal an assortment of food protective wrap-- tin foil, cling wrap, Ziploc bags. 

“You sure you wanna go there, m’lady?” He pulled down another pack of cling wrap and cut a piece.

Marinette stood. “Remember your cake from last year? When I walked in it was uncovered. Imagine had I not been there? That would’ve gone stale and ruined a perfectly good cake.” She crossed her arms, challenging him.

“Are you trying to insult me, Bug? Cause all I heard was perfectly good cake. And that means I’m a pro now, coming from a baker.” 

Marinette gasped and sat back in her chair. She didn’t say a word and cupped her palms around her cooling coffee.

Adrien shut the cupboard and taking the cling wrap, placed more around the cookies. “They’ll live.” He glanced at her half-attempt at a sincere frown. Her eyes glimmered with delight. “And Bug? I’d drink your perfectly good coffee before it goes to waste.”

Marinette glared at him while he came by and kissed her cheek before climbing the stairs again. She took a sip and couldn’t bring herself to keep the anger from lingering. Her face broke into a smile and there was no way it was leaving her face anytime soon.

She followed Adrien back into his room, where she found him reading on his laptop.

“What’re you reading?” She crept closer to his screen.

“You.” He said. 

Marinette stopped and rocked back on her heels. “Good stuff?”

He pushed the computer away and faced her. “Only ever good stuff from New York’s most prosperous designer.”

Her smile didn’t reach her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve got to go home.”

His reading glasses fell slightly off his nose. “Now?” 

“Yeah.”

“Are you coming back next year?” He wouldn’t meet her eye and instead fiddled with a loose string on his bedsheet. 

Marinette’s eyes widened. Her hands were pulling on his sweater. The fan spun in slow circles above them. “Wait, no. I’m not leaving _leaving._ I have to go back to my parent’s house and get my stuff.” She hesitated, “If that’s okay.”

Adrien returned her look of surprise. “Oh,” he exhaled. “That’s good. That’s very good actually,” he rubbed his chin before looking at her. “Thank God.” He rose from the bed and reached for her hand. “Of course you can stay, Mari. Please stay.”

She clasped his hand and peered at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“Promise you’ll come back though, right?”

“Of course.” 

Marinette pushed the bakery door open and the bells jingled above her, letting her parents know someone had entered the store. No one was at the front, so Marinette walked behind the counter and into the kitchen. Her maman was kneading dough. 

“Croissants?” Marinette asked. 

She nodded. “Are you leaving?”

Marinette stood in the doorway. “Yea, I came to get my bags.”

Her maman stopped kneading. “Did he like the cookies?” Her eyebrows raised as she took in Marinette’s juniper sweater.

“He kinda smashed them and left them uncovered.” Marinette smiled, remembering it. Then she recalled the lists of errands her mother asked her to do and slapped her hand to her forehead. “I forgot the errands.”

Her maman brushed her off, “There was nothing on that list anyway.”

Her mouth was agape. Marinette didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“Are you bringing him to Christmas dinner?” Her maman held her hand on her hip and leaned against the counter. She left a flour print on her apron. 

Marinette didn’t answer and avoided eye contact. “I don’t know.”

She returned to kneading the dough. “Just know he’s always welcome.”

Marinette walked to her maman and kissed her cheek. “Of course.” She pointed in the direction of her room, “I’ll get my stuff.”

Adrien helped her with her luggage and hauled it up to his room. 

He dusted his hands off. “You really don’t need any of this,” he said. 

Marinette eyed him. “What do you mean?”

Adrien faced her and grinned. “That sweater is really the only thing you actually should wear.” He pointed to the juniper pullover. “Or nothing,” he winked. “Or anything else from my closet. Take it all. Have it all. You’re my everything.” 

Marinette's smile would go on for miles if it could. She couldn’t help herself as she said, “I love you.” 

Adrien came and knelt before her, his cheeks as wide as hers. He hugged her hips. “I love you, too.”

The pessimistic reminder of the time limit of their relationship was easily pushed from her mind. They could pretend all they wanted. And they would. 

“Are you leaving again?” He asked. Marinette pulled her maroon trench coat from the hook and slipped it over her shoulders. 

“Yes, but you’re coming with.” His eyes widened and he hurried to grab his jacket from the hook as well. 

“Where are we going?” He buttoned the coat beside her, stuffing his hands in the pockets. 

“My parents invited us for Christmas dinner.” She stared at him, awaiting his reaction. It would’ve been something extraordinary had he not tried to hide his smile from her. He played it cool. 

“Well,” he tried, still at a loss for words. “Let’s go then.”

He opened his door for her and she stepped onto the pavement. Following her, they began to walk in the direction of the bakery. Marinette nestled her face into her coat, trying to keep warm. Adrien slung an arm over her shoulder, drawing her close. 

They stayed like that for a few blocks, until Marinette pulled away. Adrien questioned her. 

“My parents say you come to the bakery a lot.” 

Adrien nodded. “Best bakery in all of Paris.” 

“Yea?”

He stared at his shoes, pushing through the snow. “Yeah.”

They turned a corner and Marinette put a hand in front of him. “Wait.” 

He paused but gave her a questioning look. “Isn’t this the place where we fought Riposte?” 

Adrien scanned the scenery, the frosted buildings, and the dusted stone ground. “I think so,” he said. 

Marinette laughed and skipped to the center of the square. “You were your civilian self, remember? And I was Ladybug.” She turned to face him, “God, I was so in love with you back then.”

Adrien watched her and smiled softly. “And I with you, m’lady.” 

She beckoned him to follow her. Together they stood in the middle of the block. Marinette pushed her hand into his pocket and clasped his hand. “You saved my life that day.” Her voice was serious, but it didn’t last. Marinette didn’t want to get too sentimental. “From being impaled and all.”

All they did was smile these days. Adrien held her hand as they stared at each other in the snow, the flurries forming small tornadoes around them. His cheeks were rosy and cold to the touch. Her palms encased them and he leaned down to kiss her. His lips brushed hers briefly before they were interrupted.

“Adrien!” Marinette hadn’t heard Kagami speak in years. The last time she had seen her was several days ago, but they hadn’t ever spoken since graduation. Granted, Adrien and her had been together then, but she had known they had broken up over differences. Everyone knew. 

That was why she was the last person Marinette wanted to see right now. 

“Kay,” Adrien said. He turned them to face her, his hands in hers. Marinette wanted to let go and place her hand inside her coat pocket. She wasn’t embarrassed, never. Kagami would question what they were doing. Maybe not to Marinette directly, for they weren’t that close anymore, but to Adrien at a later point. 

Kagami suddenly seemed to notice Marinette’s existence. “Marinette, hi.” 

Marinette nodded and used her other hand to wave at the girl. Her hair still remained in the bob it had been in during their earlier years. Kagami donned a navy overcoat, black pants, and boots. Her face was styled nicely, especially for a late afternoon walk. 

“What’re you doing here?” Adrien asked. 

Kagami shrugged. “Walking around, I guess.”

“Are you meeting anybody?” Marinette piped up. 

The girl looked at Marinette for a few seconds before answering. “I was going to surprise someone, but they weren’t home.” 

“I’m sorry about that, Kay. You’re not going to be alone on Christmas though, right?” Marinette hoped he wasn’t asking what she feared he might be asking.

Kagami shook her head. “No, my mom’s having a get-together. I just wanted to invite someone I knew, knowing her and all.”

Adrien touched his friend’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Kay. She loves you, remember that.”

Marinette watched the encounter. It seemed Adrien remained clueless. His touch looked severely platonic, but Kagami’s eyes didn’t. A waft of cold air shimmered up Marinette’s legs and she shivered. 

Adrien noticed and squeezed her hand. He dropped his hand from Kagami. “Well, we’ve got somewhere to be. See you later, Kay.”

Kagami walked past them as she said. “See you, Adrien. Marinette.” Adrien had already looked away, but Marinette’s eyes lingered on her old friend. Kagami returned her gaze and Marinette couldn’t decipher what she tried to convey. Kagami was a closed book. 

It didn’t matter. Adrien was an open book as was she. He loved her and she loved him. That was what mattered.

“Maman, my friend.” Marinette displayed Adrien. She watched for a hint of hurt, in calling him a friend. Nothing. That was okay. 

Her maman, and later papa, both gave Adrien a hug before they all sat down to eat. 

Her parents knew that she had been Ladybug, and Adrien, Chat Noir. The whole city knew. But they had kept their relationship so secretive, everyone soon lost interest. Paris did know she had somewhat moved to New York for designing, and since Adrien remained here, people believed they were doing long-distance or had broken up. Sometimes she’d hear a new conspiracy or gossip about them, but it was never true. Only she knew what had happened between them. 

Thank God, none of that came up during dinner. What did come up was their past superhero career. 

“Do you miss it?” Her papa had asked Adrien, but also looked at her while he said it. 

“Miss what?” Adrien cut into a slice of turkey. 

“Saving the world. Superheroing, I guess.” He looked at her maman, and the two of them shared an astonished look. “Two teenagers saving Paris. Never in a million years.”

Adrien glanced at her before answering, “Sometimes. But also, I’m glad it’s over. I don’t really miss anything about superheroing, though.”

“Oh,” her papa seemed surprised by his answer. “Why not?”

“I have everything I’ve ever wanted.” Now he smiled at her and Marinette couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. 

Her parents smiled at the two of them until her papa said, “She was obsessed with you. It had to have gone one way. All the posters,” he trailed off. 

Marinette glared at her parents. “Papa!” She cried. “Stop bringing that up.”

Adrien chuckled and clutched her hand underneath the table. “I was the same. Posters, figurines,” he trailed off. 

Marinette gaped at him, “You didn’t.”

“I did.” 

If she could bottle the look in his eyes, right now, she would. Wonder and love-filled his green eyes. It was as if it was just the two of them, right here and now. 

Until her papa interrupted with a grunt. “Okay, folks. Tell me how good the macaroni and cheese was.” 

Everyone but him laughed at the request. “That’s the only thing I let him do,” her maman said. “It’s the only dish that’s impossible to mess up.”

They all took a spoonful of the macaroni and cheese. Each one of them had different reactions. 

“Tastes pretty good,” Adrien said. 

Marinette stared at him. “It’s kinda sweet, don’t you think?”

Her maman ate another spoonful. “Did you put in sugar again instead of salt?”

Her papa froze. “I used whatever you left on the counter.”

“In the bakery kitchen?”

His voice was quiet. “The bakery kitchen.”

“The bakery kitchen was where I made the desserts, with _sugar._ The upstairs kitchen, in our house, was where I made everything else, with _salt._ ” Her maman covered her eyes with her hand. 

Turning as red as the wine in their glasses, Marinette’s father took a spoon of macaroni and cheese for himself. He grimaced at the new flavor.

“It’s not bad,” Adrien tried. 

He shook his head. “Your maman’s going to make everything food-related from now on,” he pointed at Marinette. “I’ll stick to the bakery and the bakery only.”

Somehow Adrien had convinced her parents not to throw out the macaroni and cheese. 

“I’ll eat it.” Her papa had beamed and her maman simply shook her head.

“You have weird friends, dear.” Her maman kissed her cheek. 

“I still love him, though.” Marinette meant for it to be lighthearted, but her mother nodded. 

“I know.” 

This was where the timer was nearing the end of its countdown. Her plane ticket was bought for the following day. Safe and warm inside his house, Marinette nestled into him on his bed. 

“Chaton?”

He hummed and looked at her. 

“I’ll miss you,” she said. 

Cradling his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”

“Do you think,” she paused and started to wring her hands, “that maybe we could continue this? Us?”

Adrien seemed to stop breathing. His hands fisted from behind her back. Marinette bit her lip, unsure of what he would say.

“What do you mean by that, Marinette?”

She sat up in his bed. “That we take this,” she pointed to the two of them, “outside of Christmas. Like before?”

There was a long period of silence before he finally spoke. It was quiet and everyone around Marinette deafened, except for his voice. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No?” She couldn’t look at him. 

He tilted her face to look into his eyes. They were full of tears too. “We tried that, remember?”

Of course, she did. Long-distance after graduation when she got her internship. Long-distance when she got her first job. Long-distance when she was promoted. And promoted.

He would come and stay in New York City for a couple of weeks, and she would see how out-of-place he felt. She was never out-of-place here in Paris, but her work was in New York. Adrien fell asleep over video call one night after Marinette had left to answer a call for a brief five minutes that turned into an hour, and that was when she knew.

They couldn’t keep doing this to themselves.

But wasn’t this a sign that they could start again? He was all she had ever wanted. NYC would be thrown away in a heartbeat if he didn’t refuse to ever speak to her again if she did that. 

But not even an attempt at a second try? Her heart broke and broke into more pieces.

“What is this going to be now?” Her hands fisted his white sheets.

He reached to pull her hands from the blankets, and placed her hands in his once more. “Every Christmas, you love me, and I love you. No one gets hurt that way. You’re all I look forward to, every year. And knowing that nothing can ever hurt or damage that makes me so happy.” 

“It makes me happy too.” 

“Then, is it okay that we stay like this? I don’t want to lose you.” His eyes pleaded with her and she gave in. 

She pulled him down into her and wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

_end of year two_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, i have not fallen off the face of the earth  
> yes, i have treated this fic as a "more-than-one-chapter-story-that-i-changing-to-a-one-shot", my bad  
> no, i HAVE had this saved in my draft with the full intention of having the third part written before i uploaded this  
> yes, that did not happen  
> as always, leave your thoughts down below :)

**Author's Note:**

> 'tis the damn season, folks, it's the holidays once again 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this and if you liked it, give the song a listen. the link is up top on notes/inspired by. :)
> 
> merry christmas


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